


Here's To The Zeros

by LegendsOfGalaxyDragon



Series: Here's To The Zeros [1]
Category: Marianas Trench, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Music, Musicians, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5285963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendsOfGalaxyDragon/pseuds/LegendsOfGalaxyDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Lester is a musician, and he's proud to say that everything he's built in his career is from his own work, his own songwriting, and nothing to do with any of that superficial crap flooding the market.<br/>Only one day his manager has news: he’s organised for Phil to do a collaboration with another artist, which Phil would normally be perfectly happy to consider.  Except it's Dan Howell, the too-pretty Disney kid that has a huge career singing cute pop tracks, and showing off a cute little smile in glossy magazine pages and brightly lit TV shows.<br/>There’s just one catch: Phil doesn’t want to work with a stuck-up, prissy, vapid little child star that’s got crowds of screaming girls following him around the world, begging for his attention.<br/>Based off of some of the awesome songs by the band Mariana's Trench :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

2004

The police siren wailed in Phil Lester’s rear view mirror as he sped down the road at what he granted might not be the safest speed, even if it was the most practical.

He scowled through his thick black fringe at the flashing blue lights, deciding after a minute that they were definitely for him, and definitely wanted him to pull over.

He put his window down when the policeman asked him to and smiled up at him politely.

“Hello officer.”

“Good afternoon, sir. Do you know why you were pulled over?” the policeman asks, looking down at Phil with a slightly bored expression, like he’s sick of going after people for something as trivial as speeding but knows it’s part of his job.

“So that you could tell me about what nice weather it’s going to be today?” Phil suggests innocently.

“No,” the policeman replies, now scowling slightly at him. “You were over the speed limit, Sir, by quite a way.”

“Oops,” Phil smiles, attempting to resist giggling. “How silly of me. Must have been distracted by how attractive you were and left my foot on the pedal.”

“Flirting to get out of offences doesn’t work when the officer is the same gender as you,” the policeman answers coldly, making Phil stop smirking seductively and begin pouting instead.

“That’s discrimination against other sexualities,” he points out, even as the police officer pulls out his notebook and the form to give him a speeding offence.

“Name?”

“Phil. What’s yours?”

“Full name?” the officer sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Philip Michael Lester,” Phil admits, somewhat sullenly.

“Date of birth?”

“30th of January, 1987.”

“You’re still only seventeen,” the policeman frowns, looking critically at Phil. “Have you even passed your test yet?”

Phil nods, pulling out his wallet and removing his driver’s licence to hand over.

“I passed pretty soon after my birthday.”

“You’re not at school.”

“No.”

“Did you drop out?”

“They kicked me out.”

“Why?”

“I think that’s confidential,” Phil says, shrugging as if to say ‘sorry’.

“You’re not going to tell me?” the officer questions deeper, finally beginning to show some interest in Phil.

“I don’t see what relevance it has to my driving,” Phil says honestly.

“None at all. Except if you refuse to tell me I could take you down to the station with me and hold you for obstruction of justice.”

The police can be such a pain sometimes. And this officer isn’t nearly as nice as the one Phil ran into three weeks ago.

“They expelled me for drugs.”

The policeman grins like Phil just made his day twice as interesting. Which, to be fair, he probably did.

“Using them or dealing them?”

“Just smoking them,” Phil answers, as seriously as he can manage. He finds it hilarious when people take drugs too seriously.

The policeman finishes writing something in his notebook with a flourish and hands Phil back his driving licence.

“I’m going to ask you to step out of your car, please, sir, on suspected possession of narcotics.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We re-join Phil in the present, with two albums already released, a comparatively small but loyal fanbase, and preparing to release his third studio album...

“Hey, Phil,” the brunette man waves as he spots Phil entering the studio.

“Morning, Tom,” Phil replies to his producer and manager, swinging his guitar up and onto a table.

“Ready to record the next one?” Tom asks, swinging his chair over to the large desk of sound mixers.

“I tweaked the harmonies on the bridge last night, and I think it’s sounding pretty damn good now,” Phil replies, flicking the catches of his case, removing his favourite guitar from its protective case.

“Play it through to me and I’ll let you know if there’s anything that needs changing,” Tom tells him as he enters the sound booth, both of them putting on headphones so they can hear each other speak through the soundproof wall dividing the recording area from the mixing room.

Phil sighs, rolling his eyes at Tom. He’s recorded two albums already, one of them without Tom, and that one did just fine, as far as he’s concerned. But to be fair, Tom Ridgewell, better known in the music industry as ‘Tomska’, is one of the best out there. His technical knowledge is as good as it gets, and his style complements Phil’s music. Doesn’t mean that Phil can’t pretend to be irritated at Tom’s criticism.

“What’s this one called again?” Tom’s voice comes in through the headphones.

“Stutter.”

“Not a great name, mate.”

“It’s literally repeated so many times during the chorus, Tom. Do you have a better idea?”

Tom snorts and shakes his head, holding up his hands in surrender.

Phil plugs his guitar into the right cable and gives a few experimental strums, tuning it up before looking up at Tom, flicking his blue and black dyed fringe out of his eyes.

“Ready?”

He sees Tom flick a switch as the red recording light comes on and Tom gives him the thumbs up.

A couple of hours later and the two of them have moved from recording to editing and production of the parts of the new song that Phil recorded.

“So, Phil,” Tom begins, his tone of voice making Phil instantly look up from fiddling with the sound desk.

“What?” he narrows his eyes at Tom. He’s getting the 'I need to tell you something you won’t like now’ vibe from Tom, and it’s unsettling him.

“So the new album should be coming out in about four months, if everything goes as planned, right?”

“You’re the manager and producer, so you should know.”

“Yeah. Well I have a suggestion. For the album.”

“What?” Phil asks suspiciously, not liking the way Tom’s smiling slightly. He can tell his manager is enjoying this, a tiny bit. Almost certainly means Phil won’t like it.

“A collaboration, with another artist.”

“Oh,” Phil sits back, relaxing slightly. That doesn’t sound too bad. Except… “Who with?”

“Before I tell, you shouldn’t get mad at me.”

Tom is definitely hiding a smile now.

“Who do you want me to collaborate with, Tom?”

“Don’t -”

“Tell me.”

“Fine,” Tom sighs. “Dan Howell.”

What? Just… What is Tom even thinking?

“You want me to sing a song… with Howell,” Phil deadpans, trying to evaluate whether his manager is pranking him.

“Not necessarily have both of you sing on it, but I want you to write a song with him, yeah,” Tom grins, knowing exactly what his suggestion is doing to Phil.

“Are you being serious?”

“I think your styles would complement each other.”

“He’s a fucking Disney channel princess, Tom.”

“Just because he’s been on their channel does not mean he is one of the Disney princesses, Phil.”

“You have seen the music I make, haven’t you,” Phil says, gesturing back towards the recording booth and his treasured electric guitar. “I’ve won rock awards. I have a fucking dragon tattooed across my whole back and dye my hair. And I’m not even a teenager anymore. I don’t think I’m the right guy to work with Howell, because he sure as hell isn’t the right type to work with me.”

“Firstly, there’s nothing in writing about Disney kids having tattoos, so it’s entirely possible that Howell has one, and that you could be a Disney kid. Secondly, you can’t judge a person’s music from their age. You wrote your first album before you were Howell’s age, so you can’t claim that he can’t write that young. And lastly,” Tom holds up a finger to silence Phil’s protests, “I’ve seen some of the stuff he’s done, and as your manager I’m telling you to go for it.”

“Am I even allowed to say no to this?” Phil cries exasperatedly.

“Not yet. Maybe after you meet him a few times, if you really can’t make it work.”

“It won’t work.”

“You’d be surprised by some of the stuff he’s done, Phil.”

“He’s a fucking bubblegum pop princess!”

“He’s best known for that, you’re right. But he’s extremely talented, and not just at straight pop; some of his genres bleed into yours. Not only is he an excellent writer, but it would expand your own sound as well as ability to work with someone else, and not only that, but it would bring you more publicity.”

“I don’t need -” Phil splutters indignantly.

“I know you don’t need publicity,” Tom cuts in. “You’re doing well enough, I suppose. Your music is good, Phil, really good. And even though that should be enough, unfortunately we don’t live in a world with that kind of luxury. Dan Howell already has a huge following he can bring to you, and if you really hate him that much then you can think of it as an opportunity to show those people how much better you are and steal away his fanbase. But you need to give Howell a shot.”

“You’ve already arranged a meeting, haven’t you,” Phil groans, folding his arms.

“I would never arrange something you wouldn’t agree to.”

“Yeah, but you force me to agree with most of what you say anyway,” Phil rolls his eyes.

“That’s because I’m almost always right.”

“When’s the meeting?”

“Next Wednesday, at 3pm.”

“Fuck you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the songs mentioned in this fic are real songs! So this first one is Stutter, which is a song by Mariana's Trench. It's pretty jazzy, though I'll admit to you now that it's not one of my favourites of theirs. However, it is one of the first I heard (after Haven't Had Enough) so it'll always hold a place in my heart for that!
> 
> This whole fic was inspired by an idea I had while listening to another of their songs - Here's To The Zeros - that it would sound awesome sung as a duet between two people! From there it was a short jump to making Phil the singer for the first few lines (Hey kids, d'you wanna do what I do? I got sick, got kicked out of high school. I guess then, I kinda got arrested, With a car and a chase and a drug test.), which was what the story of the prologue was based on. I'll give you a hint now; Dan cuts in to sing the next few lines, so you can think on what he's gonna be like until I post that chapter :D
> 
>  
> 
> Mariana's Trench are an awesome band with many great tracks. It doesn't hurt that the lead singer, Josh Ramsey, looks pretty similar to Phil, especially back in his black hair era!

**Author's Note:**

> Please do tell me if you liked it through the kudos or comments, or find me on tumblr with the same username!  
> Thanks for reading - you all rock!


End file.
